A Borrowed Heart
by Rinna-Girl
Summary: "His surroundings whipped into a blur. Blackness engulfed his vision, everything faded. Everything but the two scarlet eyes, which continued to burn behind his eyelids." The Order is spread thin, Harry is hunting Horcruxes, and Voldemort has a dark, new weapon. Draco Malfoy is dying and the answers are more impossible than fairy tales. HBP Compliant. Dramione AU: Angels and Demons.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **Excerpt from** _ **Tales of Beedle the Bard**_

 **The Angel's Heart**

 _"Once there was a King who ruled over a prosperous kingdom in a time when the harvest was bountiful, the skies clear, and the subjects joyful and content._

 _Alas, the peace was not meant to last. The kingdom was besieged by an army of thousands led by a cruel tyrant from a nearby land. As enemy forces surrounded the city walls, the King summoned his advisors in a panic. The defenses could not hold for long and the King's army was greatly outnumbered. Death seemed eminent as the King looked between the faces of his advisors; all wore the same mask of hopelessness and none could offer a viable solution._

 _A great creak resounded through the hall as the heavy wooden doors swung slowly open to reveal a single figure in a cloak of midnight black. The Stranger claimed he could stop the enemy's armies. He promised a power greater than any the world would ever see._

 _The advisors were dismissed, the doors locked, and the windows covered at the Stranger's request. The Warlock, as that was what he claimed to be, commanded great power, and was well versed in the Magical Arts._

 _The Warlock warned the King of the sacrifice that accompanied such a ritual. He would require the blood of an innocent. The King agreed to the dark price, reasoning that a single life was nothing to a thousand lives._

 _With the King's permission, the Warlock took a young soldier, a boy of no more than 17, recruited in the King's desperation to increase the number of warriors defending the city. He cut out the boy's heart, tracing a circle in his blood on the gleaming marble of the the throne room floor._

 _He turned to the King and again asked if he was willing to sacrifice anything to gain the power to destroy his enemies. The Warlock smiled grimly and commanded him to proceed to the center of the bloody circle. The King nodded and stepped forward._

 _The Warlock circled the King, chanting in a lost language, each word drawing the circle closer to the King's feet. When the blood touched his boots, the Warlock stopped chanting, meeting the King's terrified eyes with a final merciless look. He swept his arms in a wide arc, fire erupting between his fingers, and the marble floor fell away leaving a pit black as tar and the horrified King suspended above it. Directing his flaming palms towards the pit, the Warlock screamed a final word: "Consurgo!" and the King's dying cry was engulfed by a monstrous, inhuman roar._

 _Where once stood a desperate King, there was an otherworldly creature of darkness and fire, risen from the abyss, a child of Hell itself. A Demon._

 _The Warlock began to give it a command, but was tossed aside by the beast, as it charged through a wall of stain glass windows. Colored glass rained upon the destroyed throne room, glinting shards scattering across the marble stones._

 _The Demon consumed every living creature it encountered with an insatiable bloodlust. Friend and foe, man and woman, soldier and servant, not one was spared the cruel fate brought upon them all by the foolish King's hunger for power._

 _A lone figure watched from the ruined palace as the Demon ravaged the village. The Warlock looked on in horror as the creature he summoned massacred the villagers without restraint. He had expected it to be a slave to his will, a servant to do his bidding and strike fear into the hearts of all who opposed him. He was to be King of the Earth, now he was the fool of the damned. He could not control the creature, no amount of magic could, it would seem. He turned from the shattered window wracked with guilt and despair, and his eyes fixed upon a small shape huddled beside the toppled throne of the King. A girl in white was cradling the forgotten body of the young guard whose heart had been used to complete the summoning ritual. Scarlet stained her gown like a rose in the snow, her hair falling around them in a curtain of gold._

 _"What have you done?" Her voice, no louder than a whisper, shook with grief. Clear blue eyes, watery with tears, glistened as the Warlock met her gaze._

 _He fell to his knees, his head hanging in defeat. She turned from him to the boy lying cold and motionless in her lap. Taking his limp hand in hers, she intertwined their fingers, placing them over her heart. She rested her forehead against his, speaking in a whisper lighter than a misty rain._

 _"I offer my heart, broken but beating, in exchange for yours, cold and silent. Should the Angels hear my plea, may they take mercy on a grieving soul."_

 _A pair of tears fell from her eyes as she raised her head and brushed her lips to the boy's brow._

 _As the Warlock watched, the candles all around the throne room came alive with bright, warm flames. The newborn flames detached themselves from their candle wicks and converged in the air above the girl in white and her broken boy. From the glow of the candles emerged a figure too beautiful to look at directly, cloaked in light burning bright as the sun. The Warlock cowered, but the girl looked fearlessly at the figure. The creature extended a glowing hand to the girl and she took hold of it, her other hand still tightly clasping the boy's hand to her heart._

 _From the joined hands of the girl and the heavenly creature, a shimmering stream of gold began to twine up the girl's arm like a vine climbing a stone tower. Light bloomed across her skin until she, too, was glittering like the creature. The place above her heart where her hand clasped the hand of the boy began to glow brighter than the rest of her body. A spark of light like the North Star washed the room in white, blocking out even the sickening screams of fear and destruction coming from the besieged village below._

 _A voice reverberated in the blinding white. "The Angels have heard your plea. I, Arathiel, offer you the Gift of the Heavens. The Stars will forever run in your blood, brave one; the light manifesting in the most worthy of your descendants. Destiny will come for your kin one day. The Light will call them home; they will heed the call or the world will be consumed by darkness. I have armed you with the powers of the Angels, this power and all its consequences are your burden to bear now, brave one. Use it well and wisely."_

 _The girl gently moved the boy from her lap to the cool marble floor. She rose, still shimmering with the Angel's gift. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on the sky outside the shattered stain glass windows. Her feet did not touch the floor, her white gown billowed in an invisible breeze, her hair floated around her head in a halo of gold._

 _When she reached the window she stepped out beyond the sill before the Warlock could cry out for her to stop. But she did not fall. She floated just beyond the window, a beacon in the night._

 _Below her the Demon turned, fixing its red eyes on the white light hovering in the sky with a look of burning hatred. It leapt at her, covering an impossible distance in a single bound, claws outstretched, tattered leathery wings springing from its back. Just before it reached her, the girl began to glow brighter. She was a blur of pure light, blinding and dangerously beautiful. The Demon made to advance towards her like a moth drawn to a flame. Suddenly, a beam of golden light erupted from the center of the glowing star, piercing the Demon straight through the heart._

 _It let out an unearthly shriek of pain and began to collapse in upon itself like a black hole until the Demon had vanished entirely, banished back to Hell._

 _The light around the girl began to fade and she turned, stepping over the sill and back into the throne room where the Warlock watched her with fear and awe. She descended, landing soundlessly beside the boy._

 _Turning to the Angel who remained where it had appeared, she spoke in her feather soft voice._

 _"What good is the Angel's Gift if it cannot save an innocent soul like him," she gestured to the fallen soldier. "I did not ask to save the world. I asked to save the boy."_

 _"The Angel's Gift is not a force in and of itself. Alone it is useless. It must be wielded by one who is pure and strong of heart. Selfless, innocent, and brave. No, it is not the Gift, but the heart that contains the power. The Gift merely manifests that power, expressing its magic in a way the heart itself cannot," the Angel explained._

 _"So you cannot do what I've asked you here to do? You cannot help me. I am to be left with a powerful, but broken heart," she whispered in defeat. The Angel nodded solemnly, "I cannot create a new heart for him."_

 _"Wait," she called, as the Angel began to fade. "You cannot give him a new heart...but perhaps I can give him mine."_

 _"There is only one way an Angelic heart can be given," stated the Angel. The girl nodded, as if she already knew what to do. She bent over the boy again._

 _The Warlock gasped. Give up the most powerful heart, now imbued with Angelic magic for a dead soldier? Impossible. The girl looked up at the sound of his gasp, meeting the Warlock's eyes questioningly._

 _The Warlock stammered, "I...I...I just don't understand. Why would you give up your power...your heart...your very life for this soldier?"_

 _She smiled faintly at him, a look of compassion and sympathy for the poor man who, despite mastering the Magical Arts, did not understand the real magic of the world._

 _"Because I love him."_

 _Her whisper echoed in his ears as she leaned towards the boy, softly kissing his cold lips. A burst of white light flashed between the boy and the girl. She glowed faintly, a golden haze hanging about her, blurring the edges of her silhouette. The boy shimmered and with a great shuddering breath, he opened his eyes, life flowing in his veins again. He looked up at the girl, a look of pure love blazing in his eyes. He pulled her to him, kissing her gently. A farewell. When she finally drew away, she met his eyes with a look that spoke infinities. They rose from the floor, hands clasped, and pressed their foreheads together, eyes shut._

 _The Angel turned to the Warlock._

 _"Warlock you have brought death upon this place tonight. Your error cannot be so easily overlooked. As punishment for your deeds, I place a curse on you and your descendants. Love is the true power of this world. It is a power that some cannot wield because they are too full of selfishness or hate. You selfishly sought dominance and control, now I lay a curse upon you and your descendants that you may never know Love, nor learn to master it. You are doomed to seek its magic in fruitless pursuit, never knowing what you seek, only that you will never obtain it. This is your curse," the Angel commanded._

 _The Warlock sank to his knees, looking up to see the boy and girl parting from each other. The boy held on to her fingers with the strength of an unspoken promise, until the girl and the Angel ascended into the sky, fading until there was nothing left but a single candle flickering at the boy's feet._

 _The Warlock and the boy turned to look out of the shattered window. The sun had just begun to creep up over the horizon. The Night was over, Dawn had come at last."_

* * *

 **Malfoy Manor, 1984**

The book closed with a soft snap. Narcissa Malfoy looked down at the little blonde boy in her lap, meeting his wide grey eyes.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"Are Demons and Angels real? Did all this really happen?"

Narcissa smiled at her son. "Of course not, my love. It is only a story."

* * *

 **The outskirts of Little Hangleton, June 1997**

The dry, sun-scorched grass rippled in the light breeze. The night was clear, but a dark bank of clouds was creeping in from the East. Distant thunder rumbled, a warning of the oncoming storm.

A dark figure stood on the hill, eyes closed, still as death. He finished speaking, voice permeating the silence like poison moving in a man's veins. The words were not of any human language, but the cold hiss of a snake; the great viper coiled at the man's feet stirred, her great head lifting towards her master.

" _My Lord, I do not understand. Of what importance is a child's fairy tale to your divine plan?"_

He did not turn to her. He spoke, his eyes never leaving the gathering storm on the horizon.

" _Nagini, my pet, this story may be but a fairy tale, but the power spoken of here is as real as any magic. To summon a Demon and command its monstrous power…I would be invincible. The world, Muggle and Magical alike, would be mine to control. I could cleanse this Earth of the muggle stain, bringing the pure of blood to their rightful place of power. A world born anew, that is my vision of the future. I will destroy all who oppose me, removing all obstacles standing between Harry Potter and myself. He will fall. All the world will bow before my might_. _"_

 _"But my Lord, the Angel's Gift…"_ hissed Nagini.

The Dark Lord silenced her with a wave of his hand, a cruel smile twisting his lips.

 _"Now that, my pet, is only a story."_


	2. Chapter 1

**Malfoy Manor Late September 1997**

 _Impossible._

That was the only word for the creature before him.

It was a hulking figure. A black, misshapen mountain that blocked out the stars. The creature was bigger than a troll, probably smaller than a giant, but somehow it took up so much more _space._ Its massive shape occupied the entirety of his vision, the shifting outline blurring with the surrounding darkness into one continuous nightmare.

 _It's everywhere._

With each intake of breath, the monster seemed to draw air from Draco's own lungs, feeding on his terror like a fiery dementor. He couldn't catch his breath; it came in short gasps as the panic overtook him. The stench of death and rotting flesh filled his nose and he choked. On his tongue he tasted coppery blood, his own or someone else's, he couldn't be certain. There had been so much of it. So much blood.

Draco had felt a heavy foreboding in the pit of his stomach from the moment his father told him of the Dark Lord's newest scheme. He had watched as their leader strode around his front hall, cloak drifting across the marble floors he had once toddled about on when he was young. In truth, that wasn't long ago. After all, he was only 17, but war ages the young faster than time.

The Dark Lord had drawn an odd shape in red on the spotless marble. The red was the blood of some muggle he killed, her corpse was slumped carelessly against the wall. Draco thought she might be watching him.

 _White eyes, red blood._

Draco did not recognize the spells the Dark Lord performed, nor did he know the language in which he spoke them. It was a harsh sound, somewhere between a death rattle and a screamed whisper. He didn't have long to wonder about the words. The creature rose from the bloody circle, wreathed in smoke, eyes aflame. It did not stay contained as the Dark Lord assumed it would, and they all scattered and fled as it unleashed its rage upon his childhood home and every soul in its path.

The creature killed without discretion. Auror and Deatheater blood stained the marble steps of Malfoy Manor an angry scarlet. Another loud crack sounded as someone nearby apparated away, startling Draco from his frozen panic. The jumble of screams, cracks, and shouted curses echoed in his ears, but he could barley hear the chaos over the pounding of his heart and the rushing of blood in his ears.

The Aurors had been a surprise. Draco was pretty sure they received a bigger surprise than they gave. It didn't matter that they were there; this creature was on no one's side.

From his position behind the low stone fence separating a small courtyard from the main lawn, Draco could see bright flashes of light. People were apparating, some running, momentarily forgetting their magic in an effort to escape the great creature looming on the porch steps. It burst through wall, flinging the doors from their hinges and showering the lawn with crumbled marble.

A soft sound of pain came from Draco's left. He whipped his head towards the sound, eyes coming to rest on a figure squirming feebly in the grass a few feet away.

The man, wrapped in a nondescript, black cloak with a hood obscuring his face, was pinned by the leg under a chunk of marble, his wand had rolled away and was resting by the toe of Draco's shoe. He extended a hand to Draco in a pleading gesture.

 _Help me._

Under any other circumstances Draco would've ignored him. This was a desperate situation that he wasn't sure _he_ could make it out of in one piece, especially if he stopped to help every person he came across. The people running around him were all enemies to Draco. A Deatheater would use him as a diversion, tripping him for the creature to kill. An Order member would mistake him for a Deatheater and kill him or leave him to die.

 _There was no one to trust. Not a single familiar face._

Draco looked at the stranger's hand, straining to reach him. He pulled his wand from his jacket and levitated the debris off of the stranger. Draco grasped the hand and pulled the man to his feet. A strangled groan of pain tore from the man's mouth and he pitched forward, unable to hold himself upright. Draco caught him, guiding him to the wall. The stranger grasped the mossy stones and Draco released him, drawing his arms back. His hands and shirtsleeves were slick with blood. The stranger clutched his leg, it was undoubtedly broken. Draco knew that no one in that condition could escape unaided, but survival was for the selfish. And Malfoy was selfish by birth.

He would've run then, but a sudden, hot pain pierced his head like a bludger connecting with his skull. He turned, clutching his head, and froze, his blood running cold. The creature's blazing eyes were fixed upon him. He could feel them burning through him, entering his veins. Sickly yellow ringed the bright red irises. It let out a howl like a thousand _Crucio_ curses meeting their marks in an agonized chorus. It charged.

It leapt at him, covering half the lawn in a single bound, shaking the earth where it landed, the grass around its feet faded rapidly to brown before catching ablaze.

Draco felt a hand grip his arm and he whirled to face the stranger. His eyes were illuminated by the dancing flames that encircled the creature. They were a warm, piercingly familiar green, round glasses reflecting the light.

"Take my hand," he growled. Draco didn't hesitate. He grasped the proffered hand, clinging to it like a lifeline. His surroundings whipped into a blur. Blackness engulfed his vision, everything faded. Everything but the two scarlet eyes, which continued to burn behind his eyelids.

 **Somewhere in the Forrest of Dean**

Hermione Granger paced nervously along the edge of the clearing, her shoes crunching the fallen leaves with each measured step. She chewed furiously on a cuticle as she threw a worried look into the darkness of the forest beyond.

 _Where was Harry?_

He'd been gone for hours. The other Order members had returned from what was meant to be a quick in-and-out surveillance mission several hours ago, bloody and shaken, full of horrible tales of the terrifying monster that greeted them at the Manor. But not Harry. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn't meant to go on _any_ of the missions, but he was stubborn and refused to sit around the camp while others took his risks for him. He followed the unwitting raiding party completely undetected, to the horror of Lupin and several others who nearly turned right around to go back for him.

A small team had been assembled and apparated back to search, while everyone else succumbed to the exhaustion of the night, one by one heading for their tents.

Hermione offered herself for the night watch knowing full well that she would not be able to sleep. Though it wasn't just her worry for Harry that was keeping her awake. The past few months had been difficult for Hermione. Summer had taken a heavy emotional toll on her, beginning with her decision to _Obliviate_ her parents and relocate them to Australia for their protection.

A small cough from behind startled Hermione from her thoughts. Ron Weasley was standing a few meters away shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Can I join you?" His expression was hesitant, his voice soft.

Ron was another cause of Hermione's recent insomnia.

 _In the weeks that followed Dumbledore's death, the whole school was in mourning. Harry insisted that he needed some time alone to think, so she and Ron left him to grieve, though neither really thought leaving him would do much to help. They believed it would be better to grieve together than alone. So together they stayed, growing closer in Harry's absence._

 _One hot, rainy night in July, Hermione appeared on the front step of the Burrow, soaked through and broken after saying goodbye to her parents. Ron held her late into the night as she cried. They kissed to forget the pain, the world, the war. They kissed because they needed assurance that they were not alone. When they awoke the next morning, limbs tangled, faces coated in dry tears, they knew it was not meant to be permanent. So it was with a last long look that the two decided the night's events were best left unmentioned._

The pair sat side by side on the ground, their knees didn't touch. Then Ron took her hand.

"Hermione, do you remember that night in July?"

She let out a long breath, preparing herself for the conversation she hoped to never have.

"Of course I do." Her voice was sad, heavy.

"You have always been special to me, Hermione. You know that. You and Harry are my best friends."

She swallowed the thick feeling of tears that burned in her throat, dreading Ron's words.

 _He doesn't ever want to speak to me again. This is too painful for him or worse…what if he tells me he loves me? Would I say it back? Would I be lying?_

"That won't ever change, Hermione." He squeezed her hand lightly.

Hermione looked at him, surprised.

"I won't ever stop needing you to boss me around, or wanting to have you with me. We don't have to be _in love_ for me to love you." His voice was soft; his hand was warm.

She felt lighter with every word he spoke, shocked as she was that _he_ was articulating what she hadn't managed to form into a coherent thought. While she'd been busy worrying, Ron Weasley had figured it out for her. And she was so grateful.

She held onto his hand with both of hers.

"Ron, I don't want you to think that night was a mistake. I don't think it was. You're my best friend and I'm glad I got to experience that with someone I know I'll always love. I don't regret it. I'm sorry I can't love you like I planned, but I'll love you however I can, Ron, truly." Tears slid down her cheeks, but they weren't sorrowful.

Ron pulled her into a tight hug.

"Love you, Mione," he mumbled into her hair.

"Love you too, Ron."

The tension was gone, Hermione's shoulders relaxed, and for the first time in months, she felt light again.

Then Ron leapt to his feet, pointing into the darkness.

Draco's landing was certainly less than graceful.

He was sprawled across the mossy earth, a rock digging into his ribs, and a horrible pain in his head. He cast his eyes around for his companion, his _incredibly ironic_ companion.

Sure enough, several meters away, clutching his broken leg, face twisted in pain…was none other than Harry Potter.

"Oi Potter," Draco spat, "the hell do you think you're doing waltzing up to the Dark Lord's camp in the middle of a war? I knew you were stupid, but I didn't have you pinned as _suicidal."_

"Malfoy, stop making me regret taking you with me. I could've left you there you know," Harry growled.

"You wouldn't have left me, Potter. You may hate me, but you're too bloody _noble_ for your own good."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Even the noble make mistakes…"

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.

Harry attempted to rise on his obviously broken leg, hissing in pain before shifting his weight to his other leg.

"Come on, Malfoy." He picked up a decent sized branch to use as a crutch and began to hobble off into the forest.

"You don't really believe that I'd be fool enough to go anywhere with _you_ , Scarhead. You'll hand me over to your little friends and I'd be dead before I can pull out my wand."

"I guess you'd better work on your reflexes then, _ferret._ " Harry continued to limp away.

Draco was about to turn right around and go the very _opposite_ direction from Potter, when a thought occurred to him.

 _Where was he planning on going?_ _Certainly not back to his old home and that creature._ _Potter may be an idiot, but he has some sort of plan. Surely the Great Harry Potter wouldn't go hobbling off into the forest, the Dark Lord hot on his heels, without one. Then again…Granger always seemed to be the one with the plans._

"Malfoy." Harry's voice cut into his thoughts. "Come _on_."

"You're awfully bossy aren't you, Potter," Draco drawled before quickening his pace to catch up with his hated rival.

After roughly an hour of walking in silence, Draco was exasperated.

"Do you even know where you're going, Potter?"

"Obviously," Harry spat. "What I don't know is why I thought it was a good idea to bring _you._ Surely your little Deatheater mates will be worried, won't they?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

Though he was being sarcastic, Harry was a bit surprised.

"You don't think they'll come looking for you?"

Draco gave a derisive snort. "Of course not, stupid. Deatheaters look out for themselves, not each other. They won't come after me." There was an edge to Draco's voice.

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Why did you help me, Malfoy?"

"To be fair, I didn't know I was helping _you_ ,Potter."

"But you've just said that Deatheaters don't look out for anyone but themselves."

Draco spun to face him. "Well _forgive me, Potter_! I'm a bit new to this whole Deatheater thing and I'm still learning. I won't be making such mistakes in the future, satisfied?"

Harry scowled and stopped walking.

"Oh no need to stop on _my_ account, Potter," Draco continued, irritated.

Harry cut him off. "Do shut up a moment will you, Malfoy."

Before Draco had time to retort, another voice echoed through the clearing, a voice too feminine to be Potter. Draco glanced around, but there was no one else there. They were alone.

"Harry?" came the sound once again. Potter seemed unperturbed by the disembodied voice. _Typical._

Draco conjured up several comments in his mind, most regarding Potter's questionable sanity, but before he had time to voice them, the air before him shivered. Seconds later, where there was previously an empty clearing, were several lines of tents with small pathways lit by jars of blue flame. Standing in front of the tents was a pair of familiar faces: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Both of whom looked quite relived to see Harry, and more than a little worried at the sight of Harry's odd companion.

"Who's that you've got with you, Harry?" Called Weasley, as Granger began to move about apparently lifting the protective enchantments to allow the pair through.

"No one you'll be happy to see," muttered Harry darkly.

When Ron finally got a good look at Draco, he purpled with rage.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS GIT DOING HERE?!"

Draco smirked. "I came by for a cup of tea and a nice chat, Weasley. Though you really ought to be politer to your guests, what would your poor mother say, hm?"

Ron looked ready to leap at Draco, but Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him. She looked to Harry for an explanation.

Harry sighed heavily. "He saved my life, Hermione. I couldn't leave him behind. I'm sure you've heard stories from the others about that thing. It was horrible, Hermione. I couldn't leave him there to die."

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL NOT," bellowed Ron.

"Please, Ron, you'll wake the whole camp," Hermione said gently.

"Manners, Weasley, manners. Even the Mudblood has got some," Draco tutted.

Hermione eyes blazed and she rounded on him, wand at his throat in a flash. Draco swallowed.

"Malfoy, I swear on my status as a witch that I will hex you into oblivion if you ever _dare_ use that word around me again. You'll be thrown out into that forest. I'm sure your leader's new I beast would be delighted to have a go at his master's most recent _deserter._ "

"I'm no deserter," muttered Malfoy.

"Excellent, so you'll be leaving soon? I'd hate to cut your delightful visit short, but we have a war to deal with and haven't got time to babysit the Dark Lord's pet ferret," she spat venomously.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. He stepped forward until he was looming over Hermione.

"I'm no one's _pet_ , Granger. Make no mistake."

Harry cut in, shooting a glare at Malfoy and stepping between the two.

"Calm down both of you. Hermione, we need to take him to Mad Eye, let him decide what to do." Hermione nodded curtly; Ron still looked faintly purple.

With that, Harry bid his friends goodnight. Ron strode off towards his tent. Hermione gave Harry a quick hug, still looking a bit concerned for him, glancing at his leg a few times, before seating herself against the large boulder she and Ron had previously occupied.

"Let's go, Malfoy." Harry nodded towards a large tent near the end of the row.

Draco glanced back at the boulder once more to find Hermione eyeing him suspiciously.

"Goodnight to you too, Granger," he said with a smirk.

Hermione frowned, Draco turned and followed Harry into the night.

"Hand me your wand Malfoy," said Harry, halting suddenly.

"Not on your life, Potter. You honestly think I'd hand you my only defense? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Draco glowered at Harry.

"Would you really like me to answer that, Malfoy?" Harry snorted. "You'd best hand it over peacefully before… "

Harry stopped mid sentence as a pair of men emerged from the tent. Draco whirled around, leveling his wand at them.

There was a quick burst of red light from the tip of Harry's wand, as Draco's flew from his hand and landed several meters away in the grass. One of the two figures summoned the wand, pocketing it.

Draco recognized them both after a close look. One was Remus Lupin, looking weary as ever, the dark smudges of many restless nights under his eyes. The other was a tall, formidable wizard known as Mad Eye Moody. Both his eyes, black and darting electric blue, were fixed distrustfully on Draco.

"Harry, would you care to explain what Draco Malfoy is doing at our camp?" Lupin spoke calmly, but he didn't take his eyes away from Draco.

"Well…" Before Harry could begin his explanation, Mad Eye pounded his great staff on the ground once, and Draco felt his entire body go suddenly rigid, as he collapsed.

When Lupin spoke again he sounded more worn than he had the last time Draco had seen him.

"Now Mad Eye, was it really necessary to place a full body bind on the boy?"

"Couldn't hurt," Mad Eye grunted.

Draco felt himself being levitated into the tent, as Harry and the others moved inside. Lupin lowered the immobilized Draco onto a cot.

"Now, Harry, if you'd please…" began Lupin.

"What in the name of sweet Merlin were you thinking, Potter!" Mad Eye was glaring at Harry, his electric blue eye darting towards Draco every few seconds. Lupin sighed tiredly.

"Professor Lupin, if you wouldn't mind, could we do something about my leg before we get into explanations?" A glimmer of pain flashed across Harry's face as he adjusted his injured leg.

Lupin left then tent and returned moments later followed by a girl with medium length, black hair and sharp, brown eyes. No doubt the girl had been asleep before Lupin fetched her, as her hair was stull mussed and her eyes were slightly glazed.

"I'm not sure if you are acquainted with Miss Leanne Davies. She is a dear friend of your former Chaser, Miss Katie Bell, and arrived with several others not long after the raiding party left. She has generously offered her Healing skills for our use. Lupin ushered the girl forward.

"Hello Harry, I believe we've spoken briefly. Back when Katie was," she cleared her throat, throwing a cautious glance at Draco, "injured."

Harry nodded as Leanne set about mending his leg.

After she had finished, Harry and Lupin thanked her. With Harry assuring her that he would check in with her periodically to see how it was healing, she headed back to her tent.

"Now Harry," Lupin glanced at Mad Eye, as if waiting for another interruption, but the man remained silent, so he continued, "would you care to explain how you managed to find yourself in the company of Mr. Malfoy?"

For a moment, Harry looked strained, as though he wasn't entirely sure _how_ he'd gotten himself into this situation. He did his best to explain, looking rightfully sheepish when discussing his choice to disobey direct orders to remain at the camp, and run off after the raiding party instead. He described the creature in horrifying detail. Draco would have shuddered had he been able to move.

Both Lupin and Mad Eye listened intently when Harry reached the part in which Malfoy stopped to help him, looking rather surprised.

Harry locked eyes with Lupin. "He saved my life. I couldn't leave him to die owing him that."

Lupin nodded. "The only question now is what we are to do with him. We certainly can't send him back to the Deatheaters after all he has seen. I suppose he ought to stay here."

Harry looked upset, but he remained silent.

With a quick flick of his wand, Lupin had Draco sitting up, able to move all but his hands once again. His wrists were still held together with an invisible rope.

"You really ought to learn a thing or two about hospitality," Draco snarled at the three wizards. "Not that I don't feel _incredibly_ welcome." He raised his bound hands emphatically.

"Just a precaution Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said calmly. "Surely you understand?"

Draco understood, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

"If you wouldn't mind, _Potter_ , I'd like my wand back." Draco glared at Harry.

Before Potter or Lupin could speak, Mad Eye cut across them. "Absolutely not."

" _I_ will be holding on to Mr. Malfoy's wand until I feel he can be trusted," Mad Eye snapped roughly.

Draco was furious.

"Not bloody likely, old man! Give me my wand!" Draco jumped at Mad Eye, but crashed to the ground with a quick flash of Mad Eye's wand.

Before Draco could say another word, Mad Eye had snatched Draco's wand from Harry, who was watching the scene unfold from a chair in the corner, and held it from both ends. He began to bend the wand, as if he meant to snap it in two.

"NO," Draco yelled. "WAIT!"

Mad Eye glared down at Draco. "If you so much as pinch anyone at this camp, I will personally snap your wand in half. The middle of a war is no time to be wandless, Mr. Malfoy."

With a short nod towards Lupin and Harry, Mad Eye swept out of the tent, taking Draco's wand with him.

Draco felt numb. _His wand was gone. It was in the hands of a certified lunatic with trust issues. Bloody spectacular._

Lupin regarded him with something dangerously close to pity. He unbound Draco with another quick wave of his wand. Draco rose slowly to his feet, eyes narrowed in anger.

Potter was looking at him with an expression of distaste. Lupin, as if sensing the animosity in the tent, suggested that Harry go back to his tent. Harry nodded, glanced at Draco once more, and left.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you cooperate and at least _try_ not to antagonized _everyone_ who tries to help you, your stay with us need not be unpleasant." Lupin gave him an imploring look.

Draco scowled.

Lupin sighed, resolved to Draco's stubbornness. "Come with me and we'll see if we can't find you a tent."

Draco trailed after him; the tent flap fluttering closed behind him.

 _What had he gotten himself into now?_


End file.
